My Burrito is Your Burrito
by anja-chan
Summary: It's one thirty in the morning and Yzak has the munchies. Written for a DearkaYzak contest. YAOI


_Yay! This is my finished contest fic for the Dearka/Yzak food competition between myself, The Angelic Demoness, and SlvrSoleAlchmst1. The judge is tobi tortue. Please check out their work too if you like Dearka/Yzak stuff. Thank you for reading, and if you have any critiques, comments, criticisms, please drop a review. Enjoy!_

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**My Burrito is Your Burrito**

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"Sex in the kitchen, Dearka?! Don't be so crude…." Yzak showed his distaste by curling a lip. His pale eyes flicked away from the eager blond man in front of him and he stalked toward the refrigerator. 

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, although you bring up an interesting point," Dearka said, somewhat losing his train of thought and beginning to gaze lustfully at the open counters and the clean island in the center of the room. Yzak huffed and opened up the refrigerator, its light cutting a swath of yellow across the kitchen tiles, as well as Yzak's slippered feet. The movement returned Dearka to the present from his fantasies of a naked Yzak on the island and how nice his pale lover would look in dark chocolate.

"You didn't let me get to the punch line, Yzak," Dearka complained, blaming Yzak for his lack of self-control this late at night. "It goes like this: he who has sex in kitchen… gets ass in jam! Get it?"

Yzak pulled his head out of the refrigerator to look over at his partner, his expression unreadable. "Dearka, you're an idiot—" his silver head returned into the depths of the glowing void "—and where the fuck is my cheesecake?"

"Your cheesecake? You finished it off yesterday, didn't you?" Dearka asked, getting slightly bored of standing around in the kitchen. He shifted his weight to his left foot and stuck his right on top of it in the vain effort to keep them off the cool kitchen floor.

"Damn," Yzak swore softly.

"Let's just go back to bed, Yzak. My feet are getting cold," the blond complained. "It's not my fault you suddenly got the munchies…."

Yzak shot him a pointed look from over the refrigerator door and Dearka grinned despite himself.

"Okay, okay, so maybe it is, but still, let's get back to bed. It's one-thirty already."

"Not until I find something to satisfy my craving," Yzak said, retreating back into the fridge. Dearka padded up behind him, wincing as his feet touched the colder surface tiles. Unable to help himself, Dearka sized up Yzak('s behind) from behind, as well as his silver hair illuminated and fringed with gold from the automatic light. Then he carefully brought his hands onto Yzak's sides just above his hips, and then snaked them across his stomach, one hand sliding inside the soft fabric of his robe until it met warm skin.

"I thought I already did," Dearka remarked breathily into Yzak's ear. The pale coordinator stood a little straighter, but made no response. He was obviously still searching the gleaming abyss. The feeling of a small feral creature akin to a cat hissing inside his gut reminded Dearka to immediately quash any feelings of jealousy. He had just had amazing sex with his boyfriend; there was no need to feel like said boyfriend preferred cheesecake to Dearka's hands roving over his body. Dearka sighed slightly. It was late, and the easy weariness after lovemaking was leaving him while he stood on the cold tiles.

"Aha! This'll do," he said finally. Yzak stood fully, and Dearka was able to see what he had clasped firmly in his right hand.

A cheap, white Styrofoam container.

The box squeaked unpleasantly in Dearka's general direction as if it knew the blond's inner green monster was stretching its claws. Yzak closed the fridge and moved to a counter. The room lost the unearthly glow from the refrigerator as it clicked shut and was replaced by the moonlight seeping in through the window, washing the room a color reminiscent of Yzak's eyes. Dearka followed his commander and peered again over his shoulder, intent on discovering exactly would hold his lover's attention over his hands slipping inside the other's bathrobe. Yzak grabbed a fork and lifted the lid, the scratchy noise wiggling its way underneath Dearka's skin.

Dearka stared. Oblivious to his partner's presence, Yzak dug in.

It was a burrito, the kind one got from a sit-down restaurant, and if Dearka could recall correctly, it was actually _his _burrito. Not Yzak's.

"Uh, I don't suppose you were going to ask me first," he commented dryly.

"What?" came the annoyed reply. Dearka moved to Yzak's right and leaned against the counter. Yzak was engrossed in cutting neatly through the burrito with his fork and did not even glance in Dearka's direction, his sights set firmly on the food in front of him.

"Your eating _my_ burrito," Dearka pressed.

"No, Dearka, I already did that." Dearka blinked; Yzak had not missed a beat. Dearka was forced to do a double-take inside the Styrofoam to make sure Yzak had really just cracked a joke and had not gulped down the Mexican food in several bites.

The cheesy mass was still there, only two forkfuls missing. At that, a slow smile began spreading across the tanned blond's lips. If Yzak wanted to start something like that… well, he was more than happy to oblige his partner.

"Yzak?" he questioned.

"What now?" Yzak's tone was still irritated, but now he was speaking around the beans and tortilla in his mouth. Dearka suppressed a chuckle and shifted his feet to keep them warmer.

"Well…" he drawled, gently pulling the Styrofoam box out from under Yzak's nose, "Don't you always say you like it _hot_?"

Dearka suddenly snatched the white container and scurried with it over to the microwave, wrenching open the door and slamming it quickly after the box was inside. A single hit on the keypad and Dearka's burrito began to revolve slowly on the turntable. The dark kitchen lit up with the orange glow of the little oven and Yzak's curses.

"Dearka! Why the hell did you do that? I'm fuckin' hungry and don't give a shit if it's cold, you idiot!" Yzak stormed across the tiles reaching for the microwave door. Naturally, Dearka placed himself in the way, his back to the low hum of the microwave, his smirk pointed in the direction of his lover's eyes.

"Now, now, Yzak, I think you need to take a little time to heat things up before you go right on to the main course, if you know what I mean," Dearka said carefully, his voice near a whisper and full of implications. Yzak snorted and rolled his eyes. He tried unsuccessfully to reach past the taller man, but only found his wrist caught by Dearka's large hand. Finding himself trapped, he took a step back and tried to free himself, however, this only resulted in Dearka following his movements. Smirking even more, the blond closed the distance between there bodies to nearly nothing and moved his other hand to the small of Yzak's back, keeping his commander firmly in place.

"Dearka—" Yzak began irately, but the blond chose that moment to attack his lover's earlobe. Yzak's breath hitched and he relaxed the tension in his shoulders that he had not realized was there.

Dearka moved down to plant wet kisses on Yzak's neck, nuzzling apart Yzak's loose robe to suck hotly on the pale man's collarbone. A moan escaped from Yzak's parted lips and Dearka looked up to check his progress. Yzak's face was beginning to flush a darker pink, his eyes were closed and his head rocked back slightly. Satisfied with the reaction he was getting, Dearka gently guided Yzak back until the other male's shoulders bumped into the refrigerator. At the contact, Yzak's eyes snapped open again, but Dearka just slipped Yzak's robes off his shoulders, baring a slender and taut torso. The newly exposed skin prickled as the tanned man trailed his warm hands down Yzak's sides, resting them just above his hips and the remaining fabric. His actions elicited a low moan and a slight squirm of pleasure from the fair male. Dearka grinned, feeling more in control than he had earlier that night and enjoying the sensation. He lowered his head to the hollow of Yzak's neck while simultaneously pressing a thigh between Yzak's legs.

"Dearka!" Yzak gasped at the provocative friction between them and clutched at Dearka's robe-clad shoulders. Relentless, Dearka let his hands rove over the uncovered areas of Yzak's body, letting one hand graze over Yzak's nipple. He began massaging it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and Yzak let out an aching whimper that lit a small fire in Dearka's stomach. Finding Yzak's weakness, Dearka removed his hand, leaving his lover breathless and bothered.

"Don't stop doing that, you idiot," Yzak panted, desire written plainly all over his face, his icy eyes heated and glazed over. He jerked Dearka's robe as if the rough movement would encourage Dearka to be cooperative, but he only felt the low rumble of Dearka chuckling against him as a response.

"Dearka…" Yzak mewled helplessly, and then suddenly, Dearka's mouth was covering his sensitive nipple with a hot and slick tongue. Yzak gasped feverishly and threw his head back into the refrigerator, but the pain in the back of his head did not even register in comparison to the pleasure Dearka was inducing. Dearka pulled back, licking his lips at the salty taste of his commander and watching the aforementioned in the throes of ecstasy.

Dearka could feel his partner's growing erection after his last act and decided to help his lover along more by sliding his leg more firmly between Yzak's. The fairer male bucked in response and would have slid to the floor, unable to hold his own weight up if Dearka had not been pressing against him. The tanned man dipped a hand beneath the belt of Yzak's robe, massaging in small circles. Yzak's breath was ragged and hot and he squirmed wantonly at Dearka's tantalizing touches.

"More godamnit," he gasped, teetering on the edge of sanity as Dearka teased his hand on Yzak's taut abdomen and just above Yzak's stiffened manhood. A pale claw raked through Dearka's blond hair, gripping urgently as Yzak thrust himself closer to the golden god of his sinful desires.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Both men were startled out of their lust-ridden minds by the mechanical chirping of the microwave echoing across the kitchen. The orange glow extinguished itself and the room was thrown into the moon's muted shades. For a moment, both of them simply stared at the offending kitchen appliance, panting.

"So… I guess that means you like my delicious burrito hot?" Dearka intoned huskily, reeking of seduction.

Yzak made no immediate reply, but turned towards the bedroom and returning his robe to its original placement on his slender body. His steps faltered and stopped as he reached the doorway, but his ghostly pale figure did not turn around.

"Just get your ass in the bedroom and find out." His voice was low and quiet.

Dearka smirked and jumped forward in anticipation of finishing what they had started. Then Yzak's commanding voice stopped him mid-rush as his pale lover left the moonlit kitchen.

"Grab that burrito from the microwave on your way, Dearka; I'm still hungry."

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_Feel free to read the other contest fics and leave your vote in the form of a review! The rules are posted on tobi tortue's profile. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it._


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